Asylum: A Supposed Bullet to the Heart
by gothraven89
Summary: AU My take on the Ep. Asylum. Set when Sam is possessed by creepy doctor dude. Instead of pulling the trigger on Dean, Sam does something that opens up a whole can of worms. Hurt Sam, protective Dean. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural, it is all property of the CW11 Network, and whatnot, so don't sue me, please.

Asylum: A Supposed Bullet to the Heart is Only the Beginning 

Chapter 1

Dean Winchester looked up through the nearly unbearable haze of pain he was in. Well, one would be in such pain after their baby brother goes and gets possessed by a creepy ghost doctor and then shoots them square in the chest at point blank range.

Speaking of said baby brother…

Sam Winchester loomed over his incapacitated older sibling, a maniacal glint in his eyes. Ellicott's hold on the young man was like an iron bear-trap clamped around Sam's mind, with the younger man screaming and struggling feebly within his own head, unable to do anything but watch as his body moved with Ellicott's manipulation and his own repressed emotions of anger and frustration that had gathered over many long years.

Sam now stood with a handgun in his hands, instead of the shotgun he'd used earlier to blast his brother's chest full of rock salt, the same handgun Dean had held out to him mere moments ago.

Dean swallowed down a wave of nausea as he stared up at his brother, who's nose was still bleeding profusely. The elder Winchester brother watched as Sam slowly raised his arms, with gun in hand, getting ready to fire.

Dean wasn't too worried, after all, the gun was empty. Like he'd give his possessed brother a loaded gun. He was however, worried about what said possessed brother would do with what he thought was a loaded gun.

" You think you can kill your own brother?… Go ahead… Pull the trigger… DO IT!!!" Screamed Dean.

_" NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" _Screamed Sam from where he was trapped in his own mind. The younger Winchester brother began to struggle more frantically and viciously against Dr. Ellicott's vice-like hold.

" _Let go of me you twisted old freak." _Screamed Sam's conscious mind.

" _I'm making things better for you. So much better." _Came the breathy, gnarled voice of Ellicott.

" _GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!!!" _Screamed Sam's mind once again

Then, Sam felt a wave of indescribable agony wash over him, like millions of hypodermic needles piercing his skin, all at once.

Meanwhile, in the physical word, Dean lay staring up at his baby brother, waiting with baited breath to see what Sam would do. Then, Dean felt a jolt as something flickered within his brother's possessed eyes. Then, he heard Sam let out a tiny gasp as a look of indescribable agony washed over his face.

" Dean." Came a plaintiff whisper as Sam began to tremble, the gun shaking in his hands.

" Sammy. Don't let him win Sammy. Fight him!" Grunted Dean as he tried feebly to get up. Dean let out a small groan as the pain in his chest increased.

Through his own haze of shear agony, Sam felt himself momentarily gain the upper hand on Ellicott's hold.

With his mind momentarily clear, Sam looked down at Dean, green eyes filling with regret as he spoke.

" I know what I have to do." Whispered Sam, suppressing a grunt as he used what little control he had over his motor functions, he pulled his arms back and to the side so that Dean was no longer in the line of fire.

Dean felt a wave of relief wash over him despite knowing that he wasn't in danger of getting shot by the gun in his brother's hand.

Relief however, quickly turned to shocked horror at what Dean now witnessed before him.

With another gasp, Sam turned the gun around in his hands, with his thumbs now on the trigger as he slowly, shaking brought the gun closer.

" Sammy, what the fuck are you doing?!" Yelled Dean with another groan as he watched his baby brother aim a gun at his own chest, a direct hit to his heart.

Dean felt his own heart stop dead in his chest when Sam turned his pain filled gaze so that he was staring at him. What Dean saw in Sam's eyes when there gazes met froze him with terror.

" Sammy." Said Dean and he pushed himself up onto his elbows, his own eyes growing even wider as he watched Sam's well with salty tears of pain and anguish. One managed to escape his left eyes, cutting a slow, salty trail down his cheek and then falling off his jaw to the dirty floor of the building. Then, Sam looked away and stared at the gun he was pointing at himself.

" Sammy, no!" Cried Dean as he tried to pull himself up further.

Sam let out a shaky breath, inside his mind was a maelstrom of pain, anger, fear, and most of all anguish as he continued to fight against Ellicott. But, his will and strength were fading, fast. Ellicott's hold was slowly reestablishing itself around him. He couldn't let this thing hurt his brother any further.

" I'm sorry Dean." Said Sam, as he let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes as he steadied his hands around the gun and squeezed the trigger.

_Click…Click- Click- Click… _

The sounds was hollow and empty. A confused Sam opened his still tearful eyes to gawk at the newly discovered to be empty gun in his hands.

Sam turned towards where his big brother was laying, only to feel a solid fist connect with his face, the force of the blow knocking him off his feet.

Sam felt his head spin, and darkness pull at him as he fell in an undignified heap onto the Sanitarium floor with a distant but familiar weight pinning him where he lay.

With his vision swimming and blood cascading from his nose, Sam stared up at the ceiling before Dean's haunted and immeasurably concerned face came into view.

" Sammy." Said Dean, his voice urgent.

" Dean, I... didn't mean... it." Whispered Sam before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he succumbed to the darkness.

Dean watched and felt as his baby brother's body lost all tension beneath his hands.

" Sorry Sammy." Whispered Dean as he reached out to push a few of the bangs of hair from his unconscious baby brother's forehead before biting back a groan and climbing to his feet.

With a lingering look at the young man laying unconscious before, Dean pulled himself together despite the agony his very abused chest was giving him.

As he looked around, he picked up the shotgun Sam had dropped and pulled out his flashlight.

Ignoring his pain and going into full hunter mode, Dean warily made his way over to the tattered plastic curtains, using the muzzle of the gun to push it aside and see if there was something there to shoot.

Seeing nothing, Dean ventured further behind the curtains and looked around, till his eyes caught the miniscule hairs sticking out of the white metal medicine cabinet on the floor a few feet away.

Dean came to kneel before cabinet, slowly reaching out to grasp one of the rusty handles. He twisted it and pulled.

The second the door opened, a pungent odor assailed him, so vile it seemed to set his nostrils ablaze, adding to his agony.

" Shit." Swore Dean softly, turning away from the grisly, mummified corpse of Dr. Ellicott.

Swallowing another wave of naseau, Dean reached into the bag laying open of the floor beside him, pulling out rock salt and some other highly flamable items and begain pouring them onto the rancid body before him.

He was so focused on salting and then incinerating the corse, he didn't see the old gurney a few feet away from him start to move, in mere seconds it was plowing straight for him.

" OOFF!"

Dean was sent flying backwards as the gurny connected with him.

As he lay in a daze, Ellicott seized his chance.

" AAAAAAHHHHH!!!" Screamed Dean as the dead man's ginger all but burrowed into his face, setting his whol head ablaze with pain.

Wide green eyes stared up into dead, demonic ones as Dr. Ellicott cooed to his latest 'patient'. Dean continued to struggle feedbly against the supernatural hold, one of his hands frantically searching through the bag until he found the silver lighter.

Flicking it open, Dean let out a scream as he threw the now flaming device into the medicine cabinet, and it's shriveled occupant.

As the corpse burst into flames, Spirit Ellicott's grip fell away from Dean's face, much to the living man's relief.

Dean watched as Ellicott disintegrated into dust onto the floor. A distastful pile of grim, much like he had been when the good doctor had been a living, marginally human being.

Dean let out the breath he wasn't even away that he was hold, nearly collapsing on the floor.

This collapsed had been welcome, until Dean remembered the events preceeding Ellicott's demise.

" Sammy!" Groaned Dean as he climbed to his feet, running back to his baby brother.

Sam was still laying where he'd lost consciousness as his big brother reached him.

For the first time, Dean felt cold terror settle over him as he gazed on Sam's face, lax features mingling with lines of red blood, still streaming from his nose.

Dean gripped Sam's shoulder and began shaking him, trying to rouse him from whatever darkness still gripped him.

" Sam? Sammy, c'mon wake up! Sammy wake up!"

TBC... Hopefully, please review!!!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural, it is all property of the CW11 Network, and whatnot, so don't sue me, please.

Chapter 2

" Damnitt Sammy." Swore Dean softly as he looked down at Sam, who was still out like a light. Dean himself felt ready to pass out when his rapidly tiring mind went back to what he'd had to witness only ten or twelve minutes earlier.

He had watched his baby brother shoot himself in the heart. Albeit, with an empty gun.

Dean used all his will to try and stop the trembling that had set in over his entire being as he sat beside Sam's prone form.

Dean screwed his eyes shut a moment, trying to block out the images of what might have been if the gun had been loaded.

He knew that tonight, he'd have nightmares of his own when they got back to the motel.

Speaking of which, Dean could see no other option present itself.

With a small grunt, Dean slowly got to his knees before he yanked Sam by the front of his shirt and jacket, hoisting the unconscious young man over his shoulder.

With a low groan, Dean pushed himself onto his feet, carrying his little brother, who by no means was little in stature, over one shoulder, firemen style.

" You so owe me for this Sammy." Grumbled Dean as he slowly made his way out of this damned asylum because frankly, he'd had enough of this place in it's whole entirity. He left all of the stuff they'd brought into the building behind, he'd come back for them later, Sam took priority at the moment.

Slowly, painfully, Dean made his way out of Roosevelt Asylum, his chest was now on fire, and the shoulder bearing all of Sam's weight had gone numb.

Then, there it was, the rusty, off it's hinges door of the Asylum, the way out.

Quickening his pace to as fast as he could under the circumstances, Dean hurried to the doors, bursting into the much welcomed sunlight.

Dean felt a momentary surge of joy when his eyes fell on his baby, the beautiful black 1967 Chevy Impala parked on the other side of the fence.

Dean made his laborous way through the gates of the fence, after what seemed an eternity, the elder Winchester finally reached the passenger side door of the Impala.

As gently as he could, Dean slowly lowered his still unconscious burden from his shoulder to the gravel covered ground, he manuvered Sam so that he was leaning against the side of the car while Dean got the door open.

Once that task was done, Dean gripped Sam under his arms and pushed his tall, lanky brother into the passenger side seat. Dean arranged Sam as best he could, the final result was Sam laying with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head lolling backwards against the seat.

As Dean gave Sam another worried once over, he was relieved to see that blood was no longer pouring out of his brother's nose anymore. That was a hopeful sign of improvement. But, there was still no visible sign of consciousness returning any time soon.

With great reluctance, Dean shut the door and stumbled back into the building. Using whatever energy he had left, Dean gather up all the stuff they'd brought and was back outside, not really giving a damn about the young couple he'd passed by in his hurry.

Once he was back outside, he hurriedly popped the trunk and dumped everything in there before running over to the driver's side door, all but ripping it off as he climbed in.

Once he got the car started, he floored it, tires screeching on asphault as he made a sharp turn and drove away from the Roosevelt Asylum.

As he drove, Dean kept glancing at Sam, who moved only when the bumps in the road jostled the car.

Then, not being able to resist any further, Dean reached out and pressed two fingertips to the side of his brother's neck, finding comfort in the steady beat that pulsated beneath them.

_" C'mon Sammy, wake up already, your starting to scare me here."_ Thought Dean before he turned his attention back to the road.

At a particularly hard jolt, Dean watched in stunned horror as Sam's body pitched forward, ready to make hard contact with the dashboard.

Acting as if on instinct, one of Dean's hands left the steering wheel, his entire arm shooting out to stop his brother's body just before it hit anything, gently pushing Sam back against the seat. Then, Dean leaned over a little to snatch up the seatbelt, wrenching it from where it rested, pulling it across Sam's chest and lap before pushing it into the buckle with a small click.

Once he knew Sam was secured by the seat belt, Dean turned the majority of his focus back to driving back to the motel.

At first, Dean had thought about heading straight to the hospital, but then thought better of it, there'd be too many questions plus, someone might notice that he himself was injured. That of course would most likely lead to the cops being called, and... that path was clearly out of the question.

Now as he drove, Dean tried to block out the echoes of his baby brother's voice during those terrifying moments before and after Sam had pulled the trigger.

_" Dean" _

_" I know what I have to do" _

_" I'm sorry Dean." _

_" Dean, I... didn't mean... it" _

Dean screwed his eyes shut for a second and took a deep breath, managing to banish the these echoing words from his mind, if only for the time being.

When he opened his eyes again, he felt a profound sense of relief wash over him again as he caught sight of the motel they were staying at, just up ahead.

Then, a small, agonized whimper eminated from beside him.

Dean turned to see a pained expression now gracing Sam's features, eventhough his eyes were still closed, and he seemed for the most part, still out of it. Then, much to Dean's chagrin, Sam's features went lax once again.

" Just hold on Sammy." Said Dean softly as with another worried glance, he urged the car forward.

When they finally, finally reached the motel parking lot, Dean turned the car off before turning his full attention to his injured baby brother.

Reaching into a glove compartment, Dean pulled out several paper napkins and fished out a bottle of water from the back.

Managing to unscrew the cap off the bottle and douse a few napkins, Dean set to work cleaning off some of the blood from his brother's face. He winced to himself when he found himself having to repeat the process of wetting a napkin twice before Sam looked remotely presentable should any of the other temporary residents of the motel see them, seeing as to how it was still daylight out.

Once he'd cleaned all that he could, Dean quickly got out of the car and ran around to the passenger side door.

He quickly opened the door and reach across Sam's lap to release the seatbelt. Once that was out of the way, Dean gently pulled Sam out of the car, draping one of his brother's arms around his own neck while getting a steady hold around the young man's waist.

With another grunt of pain for himself, Dean dragged Sam towards their motel room door, fishing out the keys from his leather jacket pocket as he went. With Sam all but draped over his other shoulder, Dean somehow managed to get the door open and shuffle inside, with baby brother in tow.

Dean dragged Sam over to one of the single beds, gently lowering the young man onto the mattress.

Dean took a moment to give in to his own exhaustion, wearily collapsing on the edge of the bed, sitting beside Sam.

Dean let a tiny groan escape him, his chest now felt like it was housing the fires of hell itself.

But, just as quickly as he'd given in to his own pain, Dean turned back to check on Sam, who had unfortunately, started minutely shivering where he lay.

Dean pressed his hand to Sam's forhead and found to his chagrin, the skin was rapidly growing warmer, and also starting to clam up with sweat. A feint frown now graced Sam's brow as he inhaled and exhales shallow, shaky whisps of air.

" Damnitt." Swore Dean as he quickly got up and took of his own jacket first, getting rid of the extra weight and rolling up his shirtsleeves before shuffling into the bathroom for some towels and a bowl of some lukewarm water.

When Dean got out of the bathroom, he set the items he was carrying onto the single nightstand before setting to work on devesting his unconscious baby brother of his clothing, starting with his shoes and socks. Once that was done, the jacket, t-shirt, and jeans followed, leaving Sam in only his boxers.

Dean quickly got Sam under the covers before reaching for one of the terrycloth towels he'd taken from the bathroom. Dipping a corner into the warm wather, Dean bagan to clean up the rest of his brother's face, wincing as he caught sight of the newly forming bruise now gracing Sam's cheek... from when Dean had knocked him unconscious.

Dean felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he gently wiped the caked on blood from the lower part of Sam's face. Much to Dean's chagrin, Sam's temperature was steadily rising with each passing minute.

Once that was done, Dean when back into the bathroom with the bowl, replacing it's contents with cold water. When he got back to Sam, he dipped a smaller towel into the water, wringing and folding it before placing it onto Sam's now fully feverish brow.

Dean bit back another wince when Sam flinched away from the coldness and let out a plaintiff groan while he tried to pull away from Dean's restraining hold.

" No... Dean..." Moaned Sam, his voice cracked and barely audible.

" I'm here Sammy, just take it easy, you had a really nasty spook mess with your head." Said Dean as he readjusted the folded towel onto Sam's brow once again.

Dean watched as Sam's eyelids fluttered before slowly opening, if only a little bit, to reveal eyes that were glazed and unfocused.

" Dean?" Whispered Sam, lethargically reaching out with a shaky hand towards the blurring image of his brother that his eyes were perceiving.

Dean reachedout and grasped the wayward appendange in his own hand, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze.

" Hey Sammy, glad you decided to finally leave La La land. " Said Dean smiling tiredly at his baby brother.

" Ellicott... I... Didn't mean... Tried... Fight... Hurt you... Real... bad." Whispered Sam, his words broken and far off as tears welled and fell from his unfocused eyes.

Dean felt his heart wrenching itself, making his chest hurt for a whole other reason than the rock salt.

" Shh... Hey, it's okay Sammy, we'll talk later, right now just rest, you have a fever." Said Dean as he reached out with his free hand to stroke through Sam shaggy brown hair.

" It's... Sam." Whispered Sam before consciousness left him once again.

Dean let out a deep sigh of his own as he let go of Sam's hand and gently placed it back onto the covers.

Dean bowed his head as he stood up and headed to the bathroom, it was time to take care of his own badly abused body.

Dean got inside the bathroom, fresh clothes in tow and gingerly stripped off his shirt, biting back another groan as he stared at himself in the mirror.

His chest looked like an entire college marching band had marched across it. Dean reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out the first aid kit.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Dean set to work on pulling out whatever fragments of rocksalt were embedded into his skin, the ones that he could anyway.

Once that particularly painful task was done, Dean took a much needed hot shower. The water was soothing to his bruised and battered body.

When he got out of the bathroom wearing only a fresh pair of jeans, he paused to stare at Sam's sleeping form laying prone under the covers of his bed.

With another sigh, Dean set to work bandaging himself up to the best of his abilities. Once that bandage was secure enough, Dean pulled on a baggy button-up shirt. But, as he was buttoning up the shirt, his hands began to tremble as the unwelcome images of what might had been resurfaced, this time in all it's ghastly glory because Dean was too tired to fight them off.

His mind played it over and over again, the moment when Sam had looked him in the eyes and said that he was sorry, before he pulled the trigger on the gun he was aiming at himself. Instead of the gun being empty, the all too familiar sound of a bullet being fired echoed through Dean's ears as the image of Sam's chest exploding in a fountain of crimson before he fell to the ground stone dead with his eyes staring unseeing back at his older brother flashed through Dean's mind.

With a shaky breath, Dean managed to do the rest of the buttons of his shirt before he turned to stare at Sam once again. His baby brother look far from peaceful as he slept on, the cold compress on the verge of slipping from his brow.

Trying however futily to stop the trembling that had seemed to set into his entire body, Dean tentatively walked over to Sam's bed and sat on the edge, beside his brother.

He reached out to gently place the compress back to Sam's brow. It was a small comfort to see that Sam's temperature had risen anymore than what it had been when Dean had gone to take a shower.

Then, with a shaky hand, Dean reached out to grasp Sam's hand tightly in his own, bringing the lax appendage to his own stubble covered cheek.

This was one of those dreaded 'Chick Flick' moments that he'd always complained about happening.

Right now, Dean didn't know what else to do as he felt the backs of his eyes burn with tears and his throat constrict painfully as with a strangled sob, he began to cry without any shame.

As tiny sobs wracked through his entire body and tears streamed hot and molten from his eyes, Dean pressed his lips to the back of Sam's hand.

When his throat had loosened up a little he found that he could only whisper through his despair.

" How could you be so fucking stupid Sammy?"

TBC... Keep those reviews coming... And Thanks so far!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural, it is all property of the CW11 Network, and whatnot, so don't sue me, please.

Chapter 3

If Dean had had his way, he'd have stayed up the whole night to keep vigil over Sam.

His body however, was not in agreement with his stubborn mind. A few hours after he'd shed his final tears of despair, Dean lost his battle against the crushing weight of the fatigue of the entire day, collapsing onto his own bed, the last thing his weary eyes saw was Sam's sleeping form on the other identical bed.

With a deep breath, Dean succumbed to his own body's need for dormancy.

Both brothers lay, one lost to the nightmares of fever and supernatural manipulation, the other, soon lost to the nightmares of what he'd had to witness, and what might have come to pass.

_" I'm going to help you."_

_The gnarled voice of Dr. Ellicott echoed through Sam Winchester's mind. _

_" No, leave me alone!" Screamed Sam as he began to run down on of the corridors of the Asylum. _

_In this nightmare, he was back to this place of hellish torment and despair. _

_" I'm going to make things better for you." Echoed Ellicott's breathy voice once again. _

_Sam used everything he had to block out the voice, it was like nails scratching a chalkboard between his ears. _

_Why was he back at the Asylum? _

_Dean had destroyed Ellicott's body, it was supposed to be over. _

_As he ran, the distant echoes of other voices caught his ear. They sounded familiar. _

_Sam turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on the scene before him. _

_There before him was... Himself, with a shotgun in his hand as he watched an unsuspecting Dean kneel before the 'secret door' with his back to his baby brother, who was at this point, already possessed by Ellicott. _

_" No." Whispered the real Sam as he watched the nightmare begin again. _

_" Dean, step away from the door." Said the illusionary Sam, his tone of voice sinister and deadly as his nose began to bleed, and he raised the shotgun._

_The real Sam tried to move forward to stop what would inevitably happen, but it felt as though his feet were dead-bolted to the floor. _

_All he could do was watch that which had already come to pass, replay itself in all it's malicious and painful glory as Dean was propelled_ _backwards by the force of the buckshot of rocksalt that collided like a missile into his chest. _

_" Dean!" Screamed Sam as he watched his big brother crash backwards through the flimsy, rotten door that led to the secret room. _

_Then, the scene changed, and the real Sam found himself staring at Dean writhing on the ground in obvious agony, staring up at a 'possessed Sam' who loomed over him, the shotgun now replaced by a handgun, the one Dean himself had held out for him to take. _

_The real Sam knew that something was terribly wrong, that something very different was going to happen, in place of the actual events that did happened. _

_Sam watched as Dean swallowed against the pain he was in and spoke. _

_" You hate me that much?" _

_Sam watched as the possessed version of himself stared down at Dean, his eyes cold as ice, almost inhuman. Then, he felt another stab of terror as the other Sam slowly cocked the gun an edged closer, training the gun at Dean's head before he spoke. _

_" Yes, I do." _

_" NOOOO!!!" Screamed the real Sam from where he stood, still rooted to the floor by some unknown force. _

_Then, there was an unearthly bang and a flash of light as the trigger was pulled. _

_Sam felt bile rush up his throat, burning as it went as he watched the bullet enter Dean's head, leaving a perfect circular hole and a gyser of crimson blood in it's wake. The blood began to leak out of Dean's body, flowing out in a rapidly growing pool beneath his head, a crimson halo. Once vibrant green eyes stared up at the ceiling, unseeing and glazed over in death._

_Then, Sam watched as the other version of himself finger the trigger and let out another shot, and then another, and another, emptying the entire clip . _

_Not being able to bare the sight of his brother's bullet ridden corpse, Sam turned away and let out plaintiff sob as tears flowed like hot rivers of despair from his eyes. _

_When he turned back, he found himself face to face with 'possessed Sam'. This other, evil version of himself stared back at him, his eyes cold and filled with pure, unadultered hatred. _

_They stared at eachother for a second before the illusionary Sam lashed out and visciously backhanded the real Sam across the face, sending the young man sprawling onto the floor of the Asylum. _

_" What the fuck are you crying for, you weak, pathetic little freak?" Sneered the other Sam as he loomed over the real Sam. _

_" T-This isn't real." Said the Real Sam as he stared up at the counterfeit version of himself. _

_" This is just a dream." He added, barely suppressing a shudder as his gaze flicked to "Dean Dean" now laying in a pool of his own blood. _

_" No, this is what is eventually going to happen. You ever wonder why the people you love leave you, why Mommy and Jessica were killed? It was because of you. You got them killed, they died over your bed. You're gonna get you precious Dean killed as well, it's inevitable." Sneered the Illusion. _

_These words rang through Sam's ears and cut to his very core. _

_" No, that's not..." Sam began when a foot smasked into his face, sending him onto his back in a daze. _

_He let out a tiny grunt when said foot returned, pressing down on the center of his chest, pinning him to the floor. _

_" Yes. It. Is. This whole fucking mess is all you fault. Everyone would have been better off if you never existed." Hissed the Illusion. _

_Much to his chagrin, Sam felt tears slip past the corners of his eyes as he stared up at the other Sam. _

_" No." He moaned. _

_" Yes." Countered the other Sam with a cold smirk as he began to laugh. _

_" NO!" Screamed Sam, wanting to be free of this cursed nightmare with everything he had. _

_The other Sam looked down at the real Sam with cold, unyeilding eyes before they blazed with a new fury, as he pulled his foot away from the young man's chest and pounced on him in one fluid motion. _

_The real Sam let out a small yelp as he found himself in a vice-like head-lock. _

_" There is only one thing you can do to end all the misery, to stop more blood from staining your hands." _

_" What?" Croaked the Real Sam as he struggled feebly against his captor, but for some strange reason, he found his will to fight wavering._

_" You know what you have to do. The only way to make things right, and be free of the blood on your hands." Said the other Sam, his voice was softer now, beckoning like. _

_" You know what you have to do Sammy" Came another voice. _

_Deeper, older... _

_Dean. _

With a small gasp, Sam returned to reality, sitting bolt upright, the blankets and cold compress falling from him.

Sam blink rapidly as he struggled to get his breathing under control, he was still in the throws of fever. He turned his head when there was a small groan to his left, and felt his heart wrench as he watched Dean's sleeping form, his big brother's face conveyed his distress, he was gripped in a nightmare of him own, one in which the gun Sam had pointed at himself had been loaded.

Sam let out a shaky breath as he felt the backs of his eyes beging to burn with tears, and his lower lip began to tremble as with a groan, he pulled his fevered and swear-soaked body off the bed.

" I know what I have to do." Whispered Sam as with a lingering, tearful look at a sleeping Dean, he made his way on wobbling legs, into the bathroom.

Dean, lay oblivious to the eminant danger his baby brother was in, he was trying desperately to block the nightmare that had sunk it's claws into his mind.

_" Sammy NOOOO!!!" Screamed Dean from where he lay as Sam pulled the trigger of the gun in his hand, sending a bullet straight into his own heart. _

_Sam let out a small cry of pain as his ruined heart pumped futily, sending flowers of crimson blood out of the bullet wound that now graced his chest. _

_" Sammy!" Screamed Dean as he hoisted himself up from the ground, just as Sam's knees buckled from underneath him. _

_A dying Sam fell into Dean's waiting arms. _

_Sheer, unadultered terror filled Dean Winchester as he stared down at his baby brother, was slowly going into convulsions, blood flowing out the corner of his mouth as he stared back at Dean, life quickly fading from his eyes. _

_" D-Dean..." Whispered Sam, letting out a hollow cough that brought up more blood. _

_" OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD! SAMMY OH MY GOD. JUST HOLD ON, HOLD ON SAMMY, I"LL GET YOU OUTTA HERE JUST HOLD ON!!! " Cried Dean, his voice high and near hysterical as he pressed down on the hole in his baby brother's chest, blood bubbling between his finger. _

_" Oh my God." Cried Dean as tears welled and fell from his eyes as he used his free hand to cup one of Sam's cheeks. _

_" HOW COULD YOU BE SO FUCKING STUPID? WHY SAMMY? WHY DID YOU GO AND DO THIS? WHY?" He Screamed. _

_Instead of an answer, Dean watched as Sam began gasping for breath as he ckoked on his own blood. _

_" NO... NO SAMMY... DON'T YOU DARE... DON"T YOU DARE DIE ON ME!!!" Screamed Dean, watching in unashamed horror as Sam's eyes slowly glazed over and his lanky body began to convulse beneath Dean's hands. _

_" NO!... Sammy don't..." Dean began to say but a sharp gasp from Sam made the words die in his throat as he watched his baby brother's body arch and go rigid an moment, before falling limp to the floor with a soft the thud. _

_Deab felt his heart stop cold in his chest, his eyes widening impossibly further as he stared at what was now Sam's corpse beneath his hands._

_" Sammy no..." Whispered Dean as he stared at Sam's face. Once vibrant brownish green eyes now stared back at him, blank and void of anything, blood still leaking from his mouth, and the wound in his chest. _

_" N-No... No No No No No No No..." Moaned Dean as he watched blood continue to coat his fingers. _

_With a strangled wail, Dean pulled Sam's body against his chest, all the while crying in total, devestated anguish as he buried his face into his brother's hair, violent sobs soon taking hold of his whole being as he wept. _

_After an eternity, a voice echoed through the deafening silence. _

_" Why didn't you protect Sammy Dean? Why didn't you protect you brother?"  
_

_The voice was that of John Winchester. _

_Dean looked up and stared frantically around the room, there was no one else there, just him and... Sam. _

_Then, another voice echoed through the room. _

_" You were supposed to protect you brother Dean, how could you let this happen to him?" _

_This voice was female. _

_Mary Winchester. _

_" N-No... No that's not true." Whimpered Dean as he gazed around the room once again, looking for whatever phantom had spoken. _

_Then, a new voice came, this one making Dean already chilled blood freeze alltogether. _

_" Why did you let me die Dean?" Came a weezing, raspy voice... from the body currently cradled in his arms. _

_Dean looked down and game face to face with the bloodied, blank face of his 'dead baby brother'. _

_" S-Sammy?" Whispered Dean, before a fist came flying out of nowhere, connecting with his jaw, sending him sprawling onto his back. _

_Dean lay dazed on the floor before he felt hands twist into his shirt and jacket, savagely yanking him to his feet and propelling him backwards, smashing him into a wall. _

_With a small grunt, Dean looked up and found himself staring at an all too familiar pair of deep, greenish brown eyes, that once held a boyish innocence to them, were now brimmed with a malestrom of emotions, rage, pain, accusation, and above all... Hatred. _

_" Why did you let me die?" Asked "Dead" Sam as he pinned Dean to the wall with inhuman strength, glaring at his older sibling. _

_Dean struggled feebly against the vice-like grip Sam had on him. _

_" NO, YOU'RE NOT REAL, NONE OF THIS IS REAL, YOU'RE NOT MY BROTHER, YOU'RE NOT MY SAMMY!!!!" Screamed Dean as he doubled his efforts in trying to break free. _

_" This is what is eventually gonna happen to me Dean. You are going to fail me, I am gonna die." Sneered Dead Sam. _

_" NOOO!" Screamed Dean as he lashed out at the perverted apparition of his brother._

_He watched with growing revulsion as he hideous smile spread across Sam's blood covered mouth before the walking, talking corpse lashed out and grabbed his wrist and violently yanked his hand from where it had been clawing as one of Dead Sam's arms. _

_Dean let out a violent, horrified scream as Dead Sam tightened his hold around his wrist with bruising force and wrenched it towards his bloody chest... straight into the gapping wound that graced it, from the bullet that had entered his heart._

_Dean felt tears of pure terror fall from his eyes as he screamed and tried desperately to pull his hand out of Sam's chest gavity. _

_" What're you freaking out for? Aren't you the one who gave me the gun big brother? You killed me... with my love for you... YOU. KILLED. ME!" Snarled Sam, before his entire face went blank, and his body went rigid. _

_Sam stared back at Dean, his eyes growing dull and blank before he let out a small gasp and began falling backwards. _

_Dean watched frozen where he was as Sam fell backwards, causing his big brother's hand to be dislodged from where it had been impaling his chest. _

_With a soft thud, Sam was laying eagle-spread on the floor, a corpse once again, big, brownish green eyes staring up at the ceiling, glazed over and unseeing in death._

_Dean slid down the wall he'd been previously pinned to, his wide, tearful eyes never once leaving the sight of his brother's body laying just a foot away from him._

_For a full minute, he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do much of anything before his brain kicked in, and he lifted his hands to his face. _

_As he stared at the thick, bright crimson liquid that stained his palms and fingers, he began to gasp for air. _

_The second his lungs filled with air, Dean did the only thing that came to minds as tears continued to pour from his eyes. _

_He screamed, with all the force his lungs could muster. _

_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! _

" SAMMY!" Screamed Dean as he sat bolt upright in his bed, gasping for air and scrubbing at imaginary blood on his hands as he was finally, finally free of his nightmare.

As he got his bearings, Dean realized that he was laying in bed, in a shabby motel , his chest was on fire from the sudden movement of sitting up.

Sam was...

Dean felt the terror that had ben momentarily banished return tenfold when his eyes fell on the other bed in the motel room... the empty bed.

" Sam." Whispered Dean as he threw off the covers and bolted to his feet, forgetting about the agony he was in as he searched around the room, frantically looking for his brother.

" Sam?!" Called Dean as he tried to clear his mind and focus on something other than the pain and the terror that gripped his heart.

Then, Dean felt his heart stop cold when he heard a small, hollow, banging sound.

Dean whirled around and saw the slightly ajar door to the bathroom, blowing in the small draft that had made it was into the motel room.

Dean was moving in less than a heartbeat, smashing open the door to the bathroom.

What greeted him on the other side made him stop dead in his tracks.

" Sammy?"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural, it is all property of the CW11 Network, and whatnot, so don't sue me, please.

Chapter 4

" Sammy?" Whispered Dean, he stood rooted to the spot as he took in the hellish sight before him.

There, kneeling on the tiled floor of the bathroom was a pale, shivering form.

Sam.

Upon hearing Dean's shell-shocked whisper, the youngest Winchester looked up from where his head had been formerly bowed and stared up at his big brother.

Dean's entire being had been paralyzed when he'd first found his baby brother huddled in a corner of the dingy motel bathroom, he now felt his heart begin to lurch back to life and sent a jolt of awareness through him as he looked into his brother's eyes.

Usually vibrant greenish brown orbs, filled with life, innocence and the occassional annoyance at a certain older sibling, were now glassy, unfocused, haunted... Vacant.

This alone sent a fresh wave of silent terror through Dean as he continued to stare at Sam, his wide, fearfilled eyes racking over his brother's form, assessing the young man for any injuries.

Much to his relief, he found none so far.

He stopped when he noticed his brother was holding something in his hands and was futily trying to hide it from Dean's imploring gaze.

Dean swallowed back his terror and switched to big brother mode, slowly taking a step towards his very frightened looking younger sibling.

" Sammy?" Asked Dean gently as he inched closer, not wanting to startle the very distressed young man before him.

Sam's gaze dropped to the floor as he shrank away from his advancing brother.

Dean watched as Sam seemed to shrink impossibly further into the corner.

The brother's stayed this way, in a tense stand-still, until Sam's unfocused and fevered moss-green eyes finally looked up, brimming with terror and tears.

" D-Dean?" Came a shaky, plaintiff whisper.

" That's right Sammy, it's Dean. It's your brother." Said Dean with what he hoped was a reassuring smile plastering his face as he came to kneel before Sam.

" N-No... No... You're not Dean... You're not real... I killed you, you're dead... I shot you..." Whimpered Sam as he began to tremble.

Dean felt the breath leave his lungs as his eyes began to burn.

_Oh, Sammy..._ Thought Dean as he battled back tears, reminding himself that he had to be objective and try to snap Sam out of whatever fevered induced nightmare he was in.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Dean spoke.

" Sammy, listen to me... I am Dean, this is real, you didn't kill me. You got whammied by that creepy Doc's spirit, Ellicott, remember?"

Dean watched as Sam's lower lip began to tremble.

" I know what I have to do." Whispered Sam.

Dean felt his heart stop dead in his chest as he heard these words, the same words Sam had spoken before he'd pulled the trigger.

Dean watched with eyes the size of dinner plates as Sam revealed what he'd been hiding in his hand.

The Swiss Army knife John Winchester had given his youngest as a birthday present.

" Sammy." Spoked Dean in a warning, Big brother tone.

" Don't call me that... only Dean gets to call me that... You're not him... You can't be... I killed him... Just like I killed everyone else." Sobbed Sam as he brought the knife dangerously close to his neck, the deadly sharp blade ghosting over his jugular.

In a split second, terror was replace by sheer anger and the need to protect.

With a snarl, Dean lashed out and snagged his brother's wrist in a painful, vice-like hold, wrenching the limb backwards, away from the very vital artery Sam had been threatening to sever in his delirium.

But, Dean didn't stop there, he twisted his brother's wrist, dislodging the young man'd grip on the knife, the weapon fell to the tiled bathroom floor with a small clatter, for the moment it was forgotten.

Sam let out a small yelp as another hand came out of nowhere, slapping him across the face.

Then, vaguley, Sam heard someone curse before he was enveloped by a warm, familiar pair of arms as Dean all but crushed his baby brother against his own chest, not giving a damn about the fact that a few hours prior to this situation, that same chest had taken a direct hit of rock salt from a sawed-off shotgun.

Apparently, that bitch-slap was just what the doctor ordered as Sam's significantly muddled mind cleared a little.

" Dean?" Came a plaintiff mew.

" Yeah Sammy, it's me." Said Dean, hating how his voice was shaking despite his best efforts to reign in the chaos of emotions that was waging a war within his soul and heart.

Sam reached out with a hand and clutched at his big brother's shoulder, his finger's twisting into the frabic of Dean's shirt before he looked up to stare at him.

" You're not dead?" Whispered Sam, his famous puppy-dog face was set firmly in place, grabbing Dean hook, line, and sinker.

Dean nodded his head visciously as he spoke.

" Yeah Sammy, it's me."

" Dean?" Came Sam's shaky voice once more.

" Yeah Sammy?" Spoke Dean as he cradled his brother's trembling body in his arms.

" I don't feel so good." Whimpered Sam, before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he fell completely limp against his big brother.

" SAM! SAMMY?!" Cried Dean as he stared down at his baby brother's lax, ghostly pale face where it rested against his shoulder.

Sam's slack body moved with each shake Dean gave him in a futile attempt to wake him.

" Shit." Cursed Dean as he gently lowered his unconscious brother onto the tiled floor and bolted into the main room, almost barreling into the nightstand where his cell-phone currently rested.

He flipped it open and dialed three numbers and waited in his panic for someone to answer.

" 911, what's you're emergency?" Came a woman's voice.

" It's my brother, something is seriously wrong with him. He had a fever that just came out of nowhere and just now he passed out in the bathroom. I just fell asleep for a second... You need to send someone here right now." Said Dean, all but yelling as he raced back into the bathroom where Sam still lay senseless, his entire body racked with minute tremmers.

" OK sir, tell me where you are and I'll send over an EMT Unit."

" Uhhh... I'm at the Roselake motel on Garver Street. Please, please hurry. My Name is Dean Holcomb, my brother's name is Sam."

" Dean, stay calm and stay with Sam, help is on the way."

" A-Alright." Said Dean as he closed the cell-phone.

He then promptly dropped it as he tended to Sam. He reached around Sam's limp form, making sure his hold was solid as he dragged his baby brother's tall, lanky weight out of the bathroom and into the center of the main room.

The carpet was better than cold tiles, especially considering that Sam was only in his boxers.

With a shaky breath, Dean tightened his hold around his baby brother's limp and clamy form as he waited for help to arrive.

" Just hold on Sammy." Whispered Dean as he pressed his cheek to the top of Sam's head, battling back the tears that threated to fall and drown him.

Now was not the time to break.

Then, there was a loud crash as the motel room door flew open.

Help had finally arrived.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural and I am not making any profits off of this story. It all belongs to the CW and Eric Kripke so, please don't sue and please don't be offended by the language or situations the characters find themselves in.

Chapter 5

_Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock..._

The endless ticking sounds of the clock that adorned the opposite wall was booming and droning in Dean Winchester's ears.

A small headache was twinging beneath his brow from where he sat in one of the very uncomfortable hospital chairs in the equally uncomfortable and eerily silent Waiting Room.

It had been a whole, agonizingly long hour since he'd ridden in the back of a speeding ambulance watching the two paramedics who'd busted through their motel room door work frantically on his unconscious little brother strapped to a gurney.

It felt more like days had passed by since this whole nightmare had flared up.

Sam's temperature had reached a dangerous 104 degrees and they'd done everything they could to cool him down on the way.

Once they'd gotten to the ER, the Medics had burst out and wheeled Sam in at break-neck speed.

Dean had run along side the gurney yelling reassurances to a brother he was very doubtful even heard him.

Then Dean had been held back by some of the rather burlier members of the hospital staff and had watched as his brother was swarmed by doctors and other medical personnel as he disappeared behind the swinging doors of a waiting OR.

He'd been made to sit there and fill out the standard hospital forms and patient histories. But it had done very little in the ways of serving as a distraction for him.

Dean stretched his stiff body in the uncomfortable waiting room chair.

_" C'mon already you quacks, tell me what's goin' on with Sammy already. I need to know what's wrong with him."_ Thought Dean as he sat there with his chest aching.

And it wasn't the wounds from the rock-salt that were causing it.

As he sat there, Dean found himself once again reliving what had been the most horrifying day of his entire live.

More horrifying than the night his mother's murder which had been the end of his innocence and the beginning or a new, darker life.

More horrifying than his first hunt all by himself that had left his terrified and battered.

More horrifying than the night Sam left for Stanford and more or less shattered him.

Everything that had happened on this day made all of the aforementioned events and then some, look like dreams filled with lollipops and candy-canes.

Dean's lips quirked up in a small smile but the rest of him felt like sinking into the ground as he remembered his baby brother's famous words pertaining to his own nightmares while they were hunting down Bloody Mary.

And then, all of it hit him at once and at full, unmerciful force.

_His baby brother had tried to kill himself today... twice._

And in both instances, Sam had been trying to protect him.

Guilt began to seep into Dean's entire being because he'd dared Sam on, even handing his brother the gun, albeit an unloaded one, which said brother turned on himself.

Dean sat there alone with images of a pale and bloody Sam with a gaping hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be, glaring at him with accusation and malice assaulting his mind.

Images of the nightmare of what might have been had the gun been loaded and his own psyche merging together to torment him.

But it was Sam's words angry words from the dream that where the sharpest knives to his insides.

_Why did you let me die Dean?_

_This is what is eventually gonna happen to me Dean. You are going to fail me, I am gonna die._

_ What're you freaking out for? _

_Aren't you the one who gave me the gun big brother?_

_ You killed me... with my love for you... YOU. KILLED. ME!_

" Oh God Sammy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Whispered Dean to himself and to an empty waiting room as the urge to give in to the emotions he'd been holding at bay ever since he woke up and found Sam in the bathroom was finally acknowledged.

Now was the time to crack, just a little.

But, Dean being Dean he didn't fall out of his chair and start wailing at the top of his lungs.

While using every ounce of his will to restrain himself and not disturb the rest of the hospital, Dean haunched over and let his elbows rest on his knees while he buried his face into his lightly trembling hands to hide the silent rivers of salt that were now cascading down his face.

As he sat there, he also remembered how back in the bathroom he had found a nearly incoherent Sam huddled against a corner, in the full grips of fever.

His kid brother had been babbling on about how he'd killed him and that he wasn't really standing there trying to get through to him.

Dean barely stifled a sob as he remembered how if he hadn't stopped him, Sam would've gone and slit his own throat with the blade of the Swiss Army knife there dad had given him many years ago.

The last thing Dean needed in his current state of mind were images of that particularly gruesome outcome of this entire fucked up situation, but apparently the older Winchester brother's own mind was set out to torment him for what he'd done as he kept of see skin and flesh sliced open, crimson blood gushing out and splashing hideously onto dingy white bathroom tiles, and hazel green eyes staring vacantly up at the ceiling, the soul there served as windows for, extinguished for eternity.

Meanwhile, as Dean let himself loose it just a little bit inside the hospital waiting room...

There was a collective feeling of relief settling over the medical staff inside the OR.

The doctors and the nurses were all quietly moving around the room, cleaning up the mess that had been created in the midst of a frenzied attempt to keep a very sick young man alive.

They had been successful in that endeavor as said young man was unconscious on the gurney with an oxygen mask placed securely over his nose and mouth.

For now, Sam Winchester still had a pulse and he was breathing on his own.

They had managed to stabilize him, but he was still in critical condition.

But, the feeling of relief was quickly replaced with cautiousness and worry.

Sure, they had managed to bring down the boy's temperature from a dangerous 104 degrees to an acceptable 101 degrees, but the fever had not relinquished it's hold completely and could very well come back in full force.

On top of that, the staff would have to also be very vigilant of another serious matter.

Brain damage.

If the fever came back, there was a risk of severe and catastrophic damage to Sam's nervous system.

With is eyes never leaving the still form laying on the gurney, one of the doctors spoke to the nurse standing beside her.

" Who was it that came in with him?" She asked.

The nurse paused as she searched her memory and them answered.

" His older brother, he's in the waiting room, it took two of our male orderlies to keep him from coming in here."

The doctor nodded before she turned and gave an order.

" Call neurology, as them to send somebody down to have a look at our boy here and then have them page me. If his condition gets worse, call me immediately. Right now I better go talk with the brother."

" We'll have him moved to the I.C.U." Said the nurse to the Doctor.

" Alright." Replied the Doctor before she pushed past the dented doors of the OR.

The doctor heaved a small sigh, feeling just a little bit drained and still worried for her patient before she headed off towards the waiting room.

Back in the waiting room...

Dean sniffle quietly and scrubbed at his salt stained face.

He'd managed to compose himself after giving in a little bit to his tears, but it had only been for a good five minutes.

He'd pulled himself back together and stomped down on the chaotic mass of emotions raging inside him.

Now, he sat back and stared unseeing at the opposite sterile white wall with slightly red and puffy eyes, vaguely wondering if he was going to have to sit here for the rest of his mortal life before someone actually came a told his what the fuck was going on.

So lost was he in his staring, Dean didn't see the woman in the white jacket approaching him.

" Mr. Godfrey?" Came a quiet, female voice to his left.

Dean mechanically turned his head to see who had beckoned him under the false name he'd given.

The second his eyes fell on the woman, Dean was shooting to his feet so fast the doctor nearly leaped back in surprise.

" How is he? How's my brother? What's happening to him? What's wrong? Is he alright?" Asked Dean, unleashing a full volley of questions all at once.

" Woah, slow down Mr. Godfrey please, one question at a time." Said the Doctor as she held up her hands as though she was ready to fend him off.

Dean blinked and then his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

" Sorry, I didn't mean to loose I just..." Began Dean while the doctor finished for him.

" You were just worried beyond words like any normal human being would be given the situation."

Dean nodded and let a small smile escape him.

The Doctor smiled back before her expression grew serious once again.

" Mr. Godfrey, I think it's best we sat down and I explained your brothers current condition."

Dean nodded and retook his seat, the doctor doing the same.

As he sat there, Dean felt his heart hammering wildly against his sternum, like it wanted to burst through the bone.

Licking suddenly dry lips, Dean spoke.

" Please Doctor, tell me what's going on with my brother."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural and I am not making any profits off of this story. It all belongs to the CW and Eric Kripke so, please don't sue and please don't be offended by the language or situations the characters find themselves in.

Chapter 6

Darkness, murky and thick like oil.

It was swirling all around him, sticky and opaque.

Surrounding him in pitch black.

Everything felt heavy to Sam Winchester where he lay trapped between the unconscious and conscious worlds.

The fever still had him in it's unmerciful grip.

He couldn't move.

His body felt like it was being weighed down my all the gravitational force the Earth itself possessed.

He may not have been able to move but Sam could still feel everything around him.

His head pounded in time with the beat of his lethargic heart. His jaw ached at the corner of his mouth. His neck twinged every once and a while. His ears were filled with a low humming buzz that stop and started intermittently

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get his eyelids to budge.

Not even a tiny bit.

It was as though some invisible force was holding them shut.

These were some of the physical things Sam could feel in his current state.

But the thing Sam felt most that no drug or medicine administered to him to combat.

Fear.

He was terrified beyond words.

The full horrors of everything that had happened still held to him much like the murky blackness of his unconsciousness.

He was scared and he wanted the one person who could chase it all away.

_He wanted his brother._

_He needed Dean._

_Where was Dean?_

With these questions swirling around in his head, Sam felt an unknown force pull in back into the dark abyss of full unconsciousness.

The blackness took over completely and snubbed out any further thought from Sam's subconscious.

He simply floated away into an almost comatose-like state of being.

Back in the world outside, the door to Sam's hospital room slowly and quietly opened allowing a petite woman in a white coat and ghostly pale young man in a brown leather jacket to enter.

" He's stable for now but his fever is still too high. We'll be monitoring your brother very closely. These next few hours are critical Mr. Godfrey and you may need to prepare yourself." Said the Doctor as she eyed her patient's older brother, who's eyes had become clued to the form of the young man laying completely motionless and deeply unconscious on the hospital bed.

Dean stood there and felt a frigid chill grip his heart at the Doctor's words.

He'd heard them yes, but his gaze just took in the sight of his little brother.

Sam lay there unnaturally pale with only a light flush of rosiness to his skin because of the fever that still gripped him.

There were tubes and wires stuck all over his body that led to the monitoring equipment that beeped softly on one monotonous drone.

Dean swallowed thickly and nodded without taking his eyes off of the too still form laying on the hospital bed.

The doctor took this as her cue to leave and with a lingering look at the wreck of a young man standing before his brother's hospital bed she ducked out of the room.

Dean didn't even notice the doctor's departure. With his eyes transfixed on Sam's sleeping for Dean dragged himself over to the small plastic chair at stood beside the hospital bed. He sank down into the chair wearily and promptly buried his face in his hands. He breathed in deep through his fingers. Then with every ounce of threadbare will he had left in him Dean reigned in his emotions, silencing the urge to dissolve into despair. Taking in another deep breath the older brother unburied his face from his fingers and brought his itchy red eyes back to Sam's too still form.

Dean dragged his chair closer to the side of the hospital bed and then slowly reached out for Sam's pale hand that rested on top of the hospital sheets and comforter. With reverent care he picked up the limp appendage and wrapped his own hand around it. It was deceptively cool to the touch seeing as to how Sam was being internally ravaged by fever. Still, Dean held on to his brother's hand going so far as to cover it with his other hand.

" Hold on Sammy, don't you dare give up. Don't you dare." Whispered Dean as he gently squeezed Sam's lax hand.

With a shaky sigh, Dean settled in for the long night that was ahead. He wouldn't be getting any sleep he knew, he could live with that. What he couldn't live with was something happening to the young man who was currently laying before him on the hospital bed, senseless to the rest of the world and gripped in a dangerous fever.

The hours began to slowly pass by with no signs of awakening from Sam. Dean sat there for all those hours that passed not taking his eyes off of Sam. The paleness in his baby brother had however, given way to a rosey flush as the fever progressed. The doctor and nurses had returned to check on Sam and had given him new medicine through the IV he was hooked up to.

Then more waiting followed with only the soft sounds of Sam's slightly labored breathing combating the other wise near dead silence of the room.

Dean sat still clutching Sam's hand as the events of the day kept playing out in his head.

His brother had almost died today, still could. And back at the Roosevelt Asylum, he had been the one goading Sam on, giving him the gun, daring him to pull the trigger, that combined with Ellicot's evil meddlings with Sam's head had brought the boy to his knees. Dean winced as he shifted in his chair, the movement pulling on his own rock-salt ravaged chest. He knew he should get his injury looked at seeing as to how he was in a hospital, but this would bring about suspicions that neither he nor Sam needed at the moment. So he soldiered on and bit his cheek against the pain.

His sole priority was Sam, not himself. He needed his brother to beat this freak illness. He needed his brother to get through this so that he could apologize for everything he had done to worsen the misery Ellicot had already piled onto Sam.

If Sam didn't pull through, Dean wouldn't be able to either.

That left two lives teetering dangerously on the outcome of the coming hours.


End file.
